


Once more with feeling

by Nathamuel



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Injury Recovery, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathamuel/pseuds/Nathamuel
Summary: Harry woke up in pain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seblaiens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/gifts).



> For harrysflynns over on Tumblr

Harry woke up in pain.

It was, unpleasantly enough, a pleasant surprise considering the alternative. The pain itself wasn't particularly bad, just dully present and nagging, dragging him into wakefulness even though he just wanted to keep sleeping. His mind was wrapped in cotton or at least it felt like some cotton had been shoved into his skull. Distantly he hoped that that was not the case. He could vaguely remember holding a grenade with it’s pin missing.

There was a thin crack going through the white ceiling he was staring at. This seemed to be the case for all ceilings late. There seemed to be something wrong with his eyes. For one thing, he could barely keep them open for the blinding light and his field of vision seemed… narrower somehow.

He could have sworn that he had died, but if this was hell it was kind of nice. No one was actively trying to kill him for one, or beating the shit out of him. In fact, it looked just like any hospital he had ever been to, some more fancy than others and this one seemed to be somewhere in between nice and nasty.

There was an annoying beeping grating on his nerves and trying to push the cotton outward, putting pressure against the back of his eyes and making his head hurt. He moved his head, looking around the rest of the room. Maybe someone could make that noise stop. He didn’t feel like moving at all.

The other occupant of the room came somewhat as a surprise.

Chloe was sitting beside his bed on a chair that seemed to have seen better days. It's white varnish was flaking off in places. In contrast, Chloe looked as pretty as always. 

She was reading what looked to be a trash romance novel, if Harry could judge so by the cover. He squinted at it, where a blond woman was pressing herself dramatically against a muscular man. Their hair were blowing in a breeze. It wasn't the kind of book Harry thought Chloe would read. Usually. Alas he hadn’t thought she would betray him either.

He snorted which made a sharper pain shoot through his side. Something other than the fabric of the blanket over him dragged over his skin. Bandages, most likely. Chloe looked up and a moment later the book landed on the mattress by his feet.

"Don't hurt yourself," Chloe chastised him while getting to her feet.

"It's a little late for that," Harry groaned. A cool hand was placed on his forehead and he sighed. It did nothing for the pain, but somehow it was comforting all the same. "Where's Nate?", he asked. It wouldn't surprise him at all if Zoran had killed him, which didn't explain what Chloe was doing here. Or Harry for that matter. Zoran had made it clear enough that Harry had outlived his usefulness.

"Ran off with the reporter," she said and there was not a hint of bitterness to be found in her voice, "after they helped me get you to the hospital."

"And Zoran?", Harry asked. Tiredness made it impossible to react, but if Nate had made it out alive it could only mean one thing.

"He's dead. There were some Shambhala Guardians that took care of that," Chloe confirmed his suspicion. 

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, or feel for that matter. His brow crinkled in tired confusion and Chloe smoothed her hand over his forehead again.

"I'm really glad you're alive, Harry," Chloe said quietly. 

Harry smiled. "Could have fooled me," he answered. He kept his eyes closed against the glare of the overhead lamp. Being alive had become a little more interesting at least. He wiggled them a little while Chloe sat down beside him.

"You better believe it, Flynn, or do you think I like spending my time in a hospital room?", Chloe shot back and tugged at the pillow behind his back, shoving another one behind his head when he moved to sit up a little.

A moment later he blinked his eyes open again, or at least one of them. The other didn’t seem to work quite right. 

“You’ve been injured pretty bad,” Chloe said when Harry raised a hand up to his face. One of his arms was covered in bandages up to the fingers but he could still bend them. All five of his fingers were accounted for.

“How bad are we talking?”, Harry asked. Bandages covered his head as well, laying over one of his eyes. That explained his narrowed field of vision.

“Well, for one, you’re not allowed out of bed, because the shrapnel of the grenade tore your chest and leg up good,” Chloe said and reached out again. Her hand touched the covered half of his face. “And you’ll have an undercut for a while,” she added with a little laugh.

“Great, I always wanted one of those,” Harry murmured. It hurt when he chuckled. 

Chloe carded her hand through what was visible of his hair before leaning down.

A soft kiss was pressed to his lips.

“Get better quickly, Flynn. I hate hospitals,” she said and after another lingering touch to the side of his neck she sat down again. “Do you need me to call a nurse?”, she added.

“Is she hotter than you?”, Harry asked without missing a beat and saw Chloe smirk. She picked up the book again.

“He isn’t,” she calmly said and flipped back to the page where she had stopped.

“Then you’ll have to do,” Harry sighed.

“Just rest, Harry,” Chloe said and Harry closed his eyes.

What felt like a moment later he blinked them open. The pain had subsided a little and the sun seemed to have moved. Chloe’s eyes were glued to the pages and her toes rested lightly against the side of his pelvis, shows on the floor. Slowly he reached down and wrapped his fingers around her ankle, just holding on.

Chloe smiled softly, glancing at him. Harry closed his eyes again and slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry leaves the hospital. Chloe takes care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and any mistakes left remaining.

Harry hated the walking aid. It was clunky and ungainly and he hated that Chloe was seeing him this way. She shouldn't have to see him like this. No one should. Harry preferred to lick his wounds in peace. Maybe with time the limp he was walking with would be less noticeable. At least that was what the doctors were telling him. In a few weeks he would get used to it, they said. Not bloody likely. People might find it attractive even, but he would never be able to climb again like he used to. There were many things he wasn't going to do again and someday Chloe would realize that and leave.

And on top of that he now looked like _Zoran_... He had looked at himself in the mirror after the bandages had come off. The hair at the side of his head was finally allowed to grow back. He was wearing loose _jogging pants_ for crying out loud.

"Whatever you're thinking about, stop it," Chloe said sharply. Harry looked at her. Her hair was in a ragged ponytail. The make-up was gone. She had spend the last weeks in the hospital with him, or close to it anyway. Some of the days had been a blur to Harry, slipping between sleep and wakefulness, but Chloe had been a steady present. The others had been a drag of boredom and pain and at the end, therapy.

"Don't tell me what to do," Harry snapped back. Christ, how much he bloody hated this. "Where are we going anyway?" he asked when Chloe only shot him a tight-lipped pinched look and took the walking aid from him none-too-gently to store in the back of the car while Harry clumsily folded himself into the passenger seat. Once he was seated, he massaged his leg. Underneath the fabric the burns had healed nicely, but still pulled whenever a motion stretched the skin. Which was pretty much always except when he was lying down. There was nothing to add about his knee. It was fucked up for good and no amount of surgery was going to restore it back to what it had been. At least he was able to walk on it again with an aid.

For a moment there was no answer until Chloe had sat down in the driver's seat and started the car. "My flat," she finally said, refusing to look at Harry.

His brow wrinkled. Harry hadn't even known that she had a flat around here in London. Halfway through his recovery the hospital had transfered him. Harry hadn't really noticed, out of it and high on pain killers. One hospital looked like any other. "I've never been to your flat," he mused, looking out of the window at the street signs they passed without seeing them. He quite missed the warm climate, though not the bullets and grenades. He shuddered. Especially not the grenades. The scars would be with him forever. 

Chloe spared him a glance. "I've been to yours and we're not going to that shit-hole."

"I cleaned it between your last visit and now," Harry shot back. There would be a layer of dust over everything now of course. Usual he was a tidier person, but there had been alcohol and it hadn't been his _plan_ exactly, not at first at least, to take Chloe with him that night. His flat had been a mess and by the end of the night, the early morning hours, they had been, too.

The rest of the ride was spend in silence. Not altogether uncomfortable, even though Harry was tense. There was an undercurrent of anger buzzing underneath his skin, but mostly he was so damn tired.

"I can do it!" Harry snapped when Chloe tried helping him out of the car. 

"Don't be a _moron_ , Harry" Chloe snapped back, just as tense and fed-up, but nonetheless backed off while Harry sorted his limbs into the right position and heaved himself out of the car. He followed her inside, if slowly. The stairs were a pain in the arse.

Chloe's flat was nice looking. Trinkets of past adventures littered every available surface and made the apartment feel cluttered, but comfortable. Some doors were closed but Harry caught sight of the bathroom and what looked like a storage room before Chloe led him into the kitchen and directed him onto a chair. Just the way from the hospital to the car and the car to the flat had exhausted him. The _stairs_ had exhausted him. His eyes were dropping shut like an old man's.

"Are you going to cook?" Harry asked to distract himself and pretend that he _wasn't_ about to keel over just from walking a short distance. Chloe had puttered around and now leant against the counter with a knowing expression on his face that sat Harry on edge. Further on the edge than he already was.

"As if I would cook for you," Chloe scoffed, but it lacked it's usual bite. Then she reached for the telephone. "I'll just order take-out. You should lay down if you're tired."

Harry began to shake his head and then thought better of it. "Only if you'll sleep with me," he said, aiming for flirting and falling somewhere around pathetically pleading. 

"I'll wake you when the food is there," Chloe said, pretending not to hear. Harry would have scoffed if the fight hadn't suddenly left him. 

At least this way he would finally see Chloe's bedroom, even if there was nothing happening and he would have preferred to have a naked Chloe laying underneath him. Stiffly, he got to his feet again, cursing the slow pace of recovery. Chloe went ahead of him and Harry couldn't even enjoy the view with how his leg was beginning to ache again. 

"Painkillers?", Chloe asked when Harry sat down on the edge of her bed and it was a testament to how tired and exhausted he was that he didn't try to negate his need for them. He swallowed them dry and laid down and was out like a light. Harry felt so _old_.

Chloe's hand on his shoulder woke him. Disoriented, Harry glanced at the clock and rubbed at his face with a palm. Half an hour taking a nap like a kid or a _grandpa_. The only places he had ever fallen asleep at in the middle of the day was in tropical places where it was too hot to do anything else, or after he had drank away the morning. 

"Don't get up, Harry. We'll eat here," Chloe said when Harry made to stand up with a wince and massaged his knee. 

He scooted against the headboard and watched as Chloe set some old books on the mattress and put the containers of food on them along with the cutlery. Chinese take-out. Harry appreciated the thought. 

Chloe settled opposite him against the headboard. 

They ate in silence. The sun fell in through the window, putting highlights on Chloe's hair. She had let it down and sometime during Harry's nap she had taken a shower and brushed it out, It was lying wetly against her collarbone and framed her face. 

"Are you done?" Chloe took the container from his hands when Harry stopped eating and put everything on the floor beside her. Harry felt drowsy again. His leg was throbbing, but not painfully so. Yet. The painkillers were bound to work for another few hours.

"Careful now. Tell me if I hurt you," Chloe said and Harry opened his mouth to ask her what she meant when she climbed, carefully, into his lap and laid her mouth over his in one flowing motion. 

"I'll take care of you," Chloe whispered against him and Harry found himself smiling despite himself.

"I look forward to it," he said. She kissed him again, slipped her tongue between his lips when he opened up for her. Her weight was comfortable, but he still hissed when she settled too far down on his thighs, jarring the burn scars and his knee. _His bloody knee._

She made to pull away.

"Don't," Harry said, his throat was dry, choked up and he _hated this_ , how weak his body still was and that the wounds hadn't gone away. That he wasn't ever going to be the person of before again.

Chloe looked at him and then scooted closer again so she was sitting low on his belly again. "I'm not leaving," she promised and settled over him, mindful of his injuries this time. 

She tugged at his shirt and obediently, he raised his arms and let her pull it over his head, wincing slightly as it pulled at the wounds in his side and shoulder. They were scrapped over, only one step away from being scars. Harry didn't look down. They didn't look pretty. Chloe's hands fell to his pants, loose-fitting since the doctors had advised him against wearing jeans for the time being. Anything to not scrape rough textile against healing wounds. Her fingernails slid over his skin, right against the edge of the waistband and teasing underneath it. In turn Harry moved his hands up from Chloe's waist, slipping palms underneath her top.

Chloe was uncharacteristically quiet and with a start Harry realized that she was staring at his wounds while absentmindedly tugging at his pants. 

"Don't look at them", Harry hissed sharply. If he had been more agile he would have gotten up and walked out of the bedroom for the first time in his life. This way he only struggled into a seated position and hissed when that jarred his knee _again_.

"Why not?", Chloe asked back just as sharply. Then she poked him in the chest with a finger before he could reply. "They mean that you survived. I could be just as well mourning over your _grave_. Possibly not even that!"

That made Harry flinch. He slumped back on the bed. "I know," he said. "Let's not-- let's not talk about that, Chloe, alright?" His voice was soft, pleasing, and after a long moment of hesitation Chloe relented. 

She bend over him again, put her face right up against his. "I'm glad you're alive, Harry," she said quietly and laid her mouth over his before he could think of something to say to that. He let himself fall into the kiss. He tugged at Chloe's top until she pulled back enough so he could pull it over her head, messing her hair in the process and carding his fingers through it after, as the top landed on the bed beside them.

Chloe's hands slid over his chest and down to the waistband of his pants again. Harry was thankful for not wearing jeans for the first time in his life when pulling them off was less of a chore than he had anticipated. Chloe knelt over him, giving him an enticing view of her cleavage as she pulled the fabric down his legs, mindful of his healing injuries. Then she was tapped him on the side of his legs. 

It hurt a little, to spread his legs but all the hurt was worth it to see Chloe kneel between them. Harry wasn't hard yet but Chloe took his soft cock into her mouth and it didn't take long at all for his flesh to fill, not with the wet heat enveloping him. She moved up and down on his member and Harry felt one of her hands fondle his balls, pressing down just this side of pleasurable. His knee twinged when he bend it slightly to give her more space. 

Harry panted and a clever twist of Chloe's tongue over the head of his cock made him moan. He let out a noise of displeasure when she pulled away much too soon.

"Shush. I'm not done with you yet," Chloe said. Harry flexed on of his hands in the sheets and rolled carefully on his side to better watch her as she took off her bra and the rest of her clothes. Then she moved towards him and he reached out, curling his free hand against her belly and let it roam down over her soft skin.

"Impatient," Chloe chided him, but she was smiling as she said it. 

"Only for you, I promise," he replied with a smirk as she dangled a condom in front of his face. With a small wince Harry rolled back on his back. Chloe didn't ask if he was alright and he could have kissed her for it. When she was close enough, settling back on top of him, he kissed her anyway.

As their tongues slid enticingly against one another Harry felt how Chloe slipped the condom over his cock and spread it's slick, making him moan low in his throat. 

Her hands pressed against his chest, thumbs sliding over his nipples as she sunk down on him soon after. She groaned, pushing down on him until he was in all the way. They panted, sharing air. For a moment she waited, flexed around him and Harry was almost ready to beg when she started moving.

Harry's hands scrabbled over her waist, slid over her stomach and up to her breast, wincing when he tried to curl up and closer and jarred his injuries again, twinged his knee and Chloe bend over him, settled both her hands on his shoulders to get closer and kiss him again. Her hair fell around their face like a curtain. Experimentally, Harry tried bucking up without hurting himself, to give her the friction she needed to come. Christ it had been too long when he was ready to come so soon, embarrassingly so.

His other hand slid down to thumb at her clit, digging in and making her moan. He was determined not to come first. She flexed around him and Harry spilled into the rubber with a guttural moan, cursing under his breath. Quickly, with just the amount of pressure he knew Chloe liked, he rubbed against her cunt, her clit while he kept rocking up into her before his cock could soften. Chloe met him halfway, rubbing down and against his hand. She bowed her back when she came, moaning.

Then they were panting.

Harry slid his hands over Chloe's back and pressed a kiss against the side of Chloe's ass. She turned her head, caught his lips before sliding off him and disposing of the condom.

"Was it good for you, too?", he asked just to see her roll her eyes. Tiredness tugged at him. Harry could sleep again but that would mean that Chloe would leave. She wasn't one for sleeping together, at least not with him.

Chloe rolled her eyes at his voice, smiling and the words slipped out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them, "Don't leave?" His fingers were still intertwined with Chloe's and he expected her to pull away. Instead, she pressed a another kiss to his mouth. Then she said, "I won't leave if you don't."


End file.
